Knight in Shining Porsche
by anneryn7
Summary: I grimaced at Matt. Of course, he would pick up on me staring at Jackson. It's not like I was really trying to be stealthy about it. Is looking at someone really a crime? Sue me! Matt and his friends jumped me. I looked at Jackson stunned, not only had he tried to defend me, but he also called me by my first name. Those are two things that I never thought Jackson would ever do.


**I DO NOT OWN **_**TEEN WOLF**_** OR THE CHARACTERS.**

* * *

"Watch yourself, Stilinski. Don't you know that it's not polite to stare?" Someone quipped from beside me. I flailed and tried to find the body that the voice belonged to. I grimaced in irritation, when my eyes landed on Matt. He's always been a douche. He and some of the other social rejects think that it's their mission in life to make my life hell. I'm just as socially awkward as the rest of them, so I don't know why it's me that they choose to pick on.

I grimaced at Matt. Of course, he would pick up on me staring at Jackson. It's not like I was really trying to be stealthy about it. I just… he's a fucking Adonis and I wanted to look. Is looking at someone really a crime? Sue me!

I walked away from Matt and his friends, before I heard them follow me. I felt a sharp blow to the back of my knees and my legs gave way. I fell to the floor and cursed myself for turning my back to them. That was a noob mistake. I was better than that. I knew better than that.

Everything started to blur together. Before I could scramble to my feet, something was on my back, holding me down. My sides were being assaulted by feet and I tried to protect my face, as best as I could.

"Leave him alone!" Someone roared, from behind us. I didn't try to see who it was. I took the momentary break of getting my ass kicked, and crawled away from the angry group of testosterone.

"Stilinski, Whittemore, what's the meaning of all of this?" Mr. Harris boomed into the hallway. I got to my feet in time to see Jackson punching Matt in the face and the rest of his demented posse run out of sight. "Really, you two?! Fighting?! You both have detention. Grab your bags and get your asses to my classroom, now!" He ordered.

"Are you serious?! You've been standing there the whole time! There's no way that you didn't see Matt and the others jump Stiles." Jackson argued. I looked at him stunned. Not only had he tried to defend me, but he also called me by my first name. Those are two things that I never thought Jackson would ever do.

"I saw you and Stilinski pick a fight with the other boys. Do you really want to see who the principal believes, Mr. Whittemore?" Mr. Harris asked him in an eerie calm. Jackson cursed under his breath and dropped Matt to the ground. Matt came to his senses and fled after everyone else.

"You're such an asshole." I muttered. Mr. Harris' attention shot over to me. I shrugged.

"What was that?" He asked me.

"I said, 'You're such an asshole.'" I reiterated slowly, so he could understand me perfectly. Jackson chuckled beside me.

"Detention, now." Mr. Harris growled.

"Yeah, just wait until my dad hears about this. You know, since he's the sheriff and all. I'm sure Jackson's dad will have a field day when he hears that you watched what happened and did nothing and then blamed him for it, when he tried to help. I'd hate to be you, especially since there are videos of the fight." I told him, pointing to the cameras. There's no doubt that videos of my ass-kicking won't end up on Facebook later, since everyone is permanently glued to their phones.

I smirked at Mr. Harris and walked into his classroom. I felt Jackson follow closely behind me.

* * *

"You really think your dad will do something about Harris?" Jackson asked me. I nodded and peeked around the classroom, to make sure that Harris was still gone.

"Yeah, I told him everything that happened. He said that he was on his way." I showed him our text conversation. "He said he was getting your father involved, too." I told him. Jackson just nodded. "Thanks… you know, for stepping in. You didn't have to." I thanked him, trying not to notice how awkward the situation was.

"Look Stilinski… Ever since what happened with Isaac and his dad… I just… I've tried being the guy who stands idly by and does nothing. I can't be that guy. I may be self-centered, but I'm not heartless. I couldn't just stand there and watch you get your ass kicked." He confessed. I looked at him quizzically and wondered when his change of heart happened.

"Yeah, well, thanks." I breathed, willing my voice not to crack. I can't explain the sudden surge of emotions that are flowing through me.

"If you don't stop thanking me, I'm going to seriously reconsider helping you next time." He threatened and just like that it his smirk was back in place and it was like our conversation had never happened.

"Easy big guy, if you keep helping me, people are going to start thinking that you care about me." I teased. The smirk on Jackson's face grew steadily more carnal.

"Who says that I don't care?" He purred, as his mouth hovered over my ear. I didn't even see him move. I whimpered, before I could process what was going on. His hands were on my sides and I couldn't remember how to breathe. "I've seen the way you look at me, _**Stiles**_. I know that's why Matt and his band of fuck-bags decided to jump you."

"Wh-what are you talking about?" I tried and failed miserably to deny the painfully obvious.

"You want me, _**Stiles**_."

"N-no," I gasped, as his fingers started to trace lazy circles on my abdomen, underneath my shirt. "You and Lydia…"

"Lydia and I haven't been together in a while. You know that. Admit it." He demanded.

"I…" I whispered. He pressed his lips to my neck and I groaned. My hips gave an involuntarily thrust.

"Say it."

"I want you. God, I fucking want _**you**_." I hissed. Jackson moved his mouth to mine and fused our lips together. My eyes slammed shut and I gripped his shirt and pulled him closer. He positioned himself, so that his knee was next to my thigh and his hand was on the back of my head, holding me to him.

"Do you, Stilinski?" Jackson rasped, as he pulled away, panting. I shook my head, enthusiastically. "Good, because I don't share."

"Neither do I."

"Good." His mouth was on mine, again and I pressed myself closer to him. He ran his tongue on my bottom lip and I parted my lips for him. He kissed me with skilled precision, that left me light-headed and wanting more.

"I leave for ten minutes and this is what I come back to?!" Mr. Harris exclaimed from behind us. I jumped and we broke apart.

"Maybe if you knew how to do your fucking job and not bully students, you'd have fewer surprises." My dad quipped from beside him. I chuckled and offered him a lopsided grin. My dad winked at me.

"I will have you know that I am excellent at my job." Harris argued. Jackson rolled his eyes.

"According to who?" He asked.

"That is something that I would also like to know." Jackson's father chimed in from the doorway. Jackson did the impossible and a blush worked its way up to his ears.

"Public displays are not acceptable during school hours." Harris tried to scold us.

"It's not during school hours and you never say anything to anyone else during the day." I argued.

"Stilinski, we both know that isn't the case." Harris tried to defend himself.

"You're delusional and a bad liar." Jackson added, smoothly. I grinned at him, sheepishly. "Watch your tone when you talk to _**Stiles**_." Jackson warned him.

"I didn't realize the two of you were friends." Jackson's dad spoke up.

"He's my boyfriend." Jackson corrected him.

"Boyfriend?" My dad echoed.

"I am?" I asked. Jackson nodded. "I am." I repeated; the grin on my face grew wider and threatened to split my face in half. "He's my boyfriend."

"You better treat my son right." My dad warned him.

"Dad, he defended me today." I assured him.

"Can't you discuss this some other time?" Harris asked us. I shrugged and everyone else fixed their attention on him.

"I strongly suggest that you hand in your resignation." Jackson's dad told him, walking into the room. Jackson stood up and pulled me to my feet. I grimaced and realized just how banged up I was. Jackson brushed past me and sat down in the vacant seat and pulled me onto his lap. I blinked and the sudden display of affection.

"Why on earth would I do that?" Harris asked, visibly outraged.

"If you don't do that, then I will be pressing charges and suing you for your blatant negligence. I'm sure that Sheriff Stilinski would have no problems taking you in for witnessing an assault and doing nothing about it. The security tapes show everything. I have more than enough to take you to court. I have never lost a case, Mr. Harris. I strongly advise you to resign." Jackson's father replied with an eerie calm. I see where Jackson gets his balls of steel from.

"I… Y-You can't do that!" Mr. Harris snapped.

"We can and we will." Dad spoke up. Mr. Harris gaped at them, before nodding his head resolutely.

"Consider it done." Harris gave in.

"We'll walk with you to make sure that it actually happens." Dad told him. Harris fumed, but said nothing. He grabbed a box from the cabinet behind his desk and started dispensing all of his personal belongings inside of it. He walked out of the room with both of our fathers behind him. "Meet us up front in ten minutes, Son." Dad told me. I nodded.

"Sure thing, Pops." I flashed him a quick grin, hoping that he saw my gratitude.

"Be good, Kid."

"When is he ever good?" Jackson asked. I gaped at him. Dad laughed and continued on his way.

"Good point," he said as he walked down the hall.

"You're not supposed to take his side." I complained. Jackson chuckled and pressed a kiss on my neck.

"Turn around." He said, instead. It took me a minute to comprehend what he meant. I maneuvered myself, so I was straddling his lap.

"Did you mean what you said?" I asked him. His eyebrows rose. "I'm actually your boyfriend?" I pressed. Jackson nodded. "We're both going to get so much shit for this."

"Then we get shit. If anyone tries anything, I'll kick some ass." He replied, indifferently. I nodded, still wondering just how I managed to swing this. Jackson is my boyfriend. Jackson fucking Whittemore is my boyfriend. "I like you, Stiles and if anyone has a problem with it, they can go fuck themselves."

"You're such a romantic."

"Shut up, so I can kiss you."

"Why don't you make me?"

"You would like that – wouldn't you?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

* * *

**A/N: Review? Love it? Hate it? Let me know! :)**

Xo Xo,

**Anneryn**


End file.
